Undead Series (Book 1): Blight of the Dead

by Breckenridge, Erin E.

  “Just a sec,” Raven called, taking one last look in the mirror.

  She ran her fingers through her hair, clearing out any tangles; it cascaded down her back in a black shimmering sheet. She turned and opened the bathroom door. Liz stood so close that she was forced to take a couple of steps back so Raven could open the door. She looked anxious, wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip. Raven longed to comfort her.

  “Come here,” she said, pulling Liz into an embrace. She could barely feel the girl’s body beneath all of her layers.

  “I’m scared,” Liz murmured, face buried in Raven’s chest.

  Raven stroked her hair. “I know, honey. But we’ve got to go. We can’t stay here any longer. It isn’t safe.”

  She felt Liz nod. Patting the girl’s back, Raven held her at arms-length. Looking into her face with its delicate bone structure and big amber eyes, Raven smiled. “Everything is going to be all right,” she spoke with conviction.

  “Do you promise?” Liz asked, voice trembling.

  “I promise,” Raven answered, fully away that she couldn’t control everything, but she would do her best to keep Liz safe. That was what she was swearing to and she would not break her oath. The girl coming along had given them something to strive for. They couldn’t flit from place to place or spy on that weirdo president and his meeting points. They had to find a safe place, a permanent place where Liz would be able to live her life without the constant threat of being eaten alive.

  “Okay,” Liz responded, nodding. The trust in her eyes was palpable.

  “Let’s get going,” Raven said. She wiped the blood from her axe on the side of the bed.

  They walked quietly down the stairs Raven in front now, peering around for anything out of place. The living room appeared untouched and they snuck to the front door. Raven motioned for Liz to stand behind her and opened the door a crack. Seeing nothing but darkness and trees beyond the clearing, they walked outside. Raven had her axe in one hand and held Liz’s fingers with the other. They crept along the side of the cabin, sticking close to the wall. She felt Liz hesitate when the man’s body came into view. He lay broken and twisted on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Raven tried not to think about the fact that he must’ve been alive for a while after he hit the ground for his body to pump out that much blood. She imagined the official cause of death would be exsanguination. Not that there will be anyone left to see, Raven thought. She stepped over his body and tugged Liz along. They rounded the corner of the cabin and the truck came into view.

  “What the fuck?” Raven spat.

  The bed was still packed and covered with a new black tarp but the cab was empty. She glanced around desperately, looking for any sign of Henry or Rocky and saw nothing.

  “W-where did they go?” Liz questioned fearfully.

  “I don’t know,” Raven answered mechanically. “Come on, hurry,” she practically dragged Liz toward the truck.

  Raven had the sudden feeling that they were being watched. Feeling a tingle down her spine, she wrenched open the passenger door and Liz hopped inside. Walking around the front of the truck, Raven peered into the surrounding woods. Seeing nothing, she climbed in behind the wheel. The key was still in the ignition and Raven, with a prayer to her grandfather who had tried to teach her how to drive, roared the engine to life.

  “Okay,” Raven spoke. “Here goes nothing.” She put the truck into gear. It lurched forward and stalled immediately. “Shit.”

  Liz laughed quietly. “You don’t know how to drive do you?” she inquired, smiling slightly.

  The corner of Raven’s lip twitched. “Nope,” she said. “But I get the feeling I’m about to learn.”

  She started the engine again and pressed the clutch, shifting into first then released the clutch. The truck didn’t stall and she lurched forward again.

  “Gently,” Liz encouraged.

  Raven turned in the clearing and onto the road. “Not too bad,” she said, shifting into second gear and gaining speed.

  “Where are we going?” Liz asked, looking out of the window.

  “To the Mom and Pop,” Raven responded. “My brother knows that’s where we were planning on going next.” She glanced at Liz then back to the road. The girl stared out of the window, face impassive. “You can find some jeans and shoes there that fit you better than those giant slippers.” Raven tried to make a joke out of it but failed. Liz’s expression didn’t change.

  “What if they’re not there?” she asked in a tremulous voice.

  “Then we’ll wait,” Raven responded. Carefully downshifting as she’d watched Henry do a thousand times, she slowed for a bend in the road.

  The Mom and Pop wasn’t more than five miles away. She knew Henry and Rocky could traverse that distance without much effort. Her brother and her dog were both in good shape. Raven tried to block out visions of them being eaten alive by the wandering undead, but it was impossible. She took a deep breath and drove, glad that she remembered the way. The trees were still damp from the weeks of rain and they dripped onto the truck, making it seem like the rain had never stopped. Raven could smell the moisture in the air. She drove down into the dell and hoped her brother would be waiting there.

  Henry

  Henry sat in the truck and watched the men approach. There were two of them, sneaking through the trees and creeping across the clearing in which the cabin sat. Their feet left boot impressions in the soft ground, damp as it was from the constant rain. Moisture dripped from the trees with peaceful sounds, but Henry felt anything but.

  “Motherfuckers,” Henry spat vehemently.

  Rocky growled and Henry shushed him, petting the dog’s back.

  “We’ve got to let Raven do her thing. She’ll take one out then we can get the other.”

  He waited and watched in pained silence as a man in a wet slicker pulled himself atop the balcony. It was dark but the moon was high and Henry could make out the hood of the man’s parka as it fell back from his face. The stranger stood in silhouette on the balcony and Henry could see a straight nose and the top of one very large ear. The man looked around and slammed something into the window, shattering it. Henry couldn’t tell what he used to break the glass but it looked long and heavy.

  Continuing to watch, biting the inner part of his cheek and keeping Rocky calm, Henry glanced around for the second man. He found him quickly, crouching against the cabin’s wall and staring raptly into the trees.

  “What are you looking at?” Henry murmured, sinking down lower inside the truck.

  The men hadn’t even glanced at the truck when they entered the clearing, completely focused on the cabin. Henry had parked by the evergreen trees when they came back from their last run. The truck sat just behind the encircling trunks, partially obscured but by no means invisible. The men hadn’t even looked at their surroundings. Henry thought that was odd but it worked in his favor so he let it go.

  There was movement in the trees. The man stood and brought out a large hunting knife. It flashed silver in the moonlight. Henry saw a zombie stumble out from the forest. It was tall and thin, ribs protruding from its skin, like a large hand had come along and bent them in the wrong direction. It wore only a single shoe and the tattered remains of purple briefs. It shuffled into the clearing and stumbled over a tree root, falling to the ground. The undead man reached his arms out to block his fall in some long-embedded instinct of life. His forearm snapped, bones glistening in the moonlight.

  The man pushed off of the wall and walked silently toward the zombie. He reached it and kicked it down, holding the zombie there with his boot. The man shoved his knife into the undead man’s head. Henry watched the zombie go from struggling to complete stillness in a matter of seconds. The man turned to walk away when two zombies crashed out of the trees, mere feet from where he stood. They snarled and raced for the man. He struggled with a rifle that was strapped to his back but was unable to free it in time. Turning to run, he raced through a bright shaft of moon
light and Henry saw his face. He had dark skin and dark short-cropped hair; his eyes were wide, showing a lot of white. The expression on his face was pure terror. He raced into the trees and the undead followed. Henry could hear the crashing of their footfalls moving away.

  “That was entertaining,” he spoke, looking down at Rocky. Henry smiled and touched the dog’s head.

  A scream and a crash brought his attention back to the cabin. The first man that had climbed inside had fallen from the balcony in a spray of blood. He hit the ground hard, cutting him off in mid screech. The man lay supine, reaching his hands into the air where his fingers convulsed uselessly. Blood pooled around his body, from what type of wound Henry couldn’t tell. The ichor looked black beneath the light of the moon.

  “All right!” Henry exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. He accidentally hit the top of the truck. With a muffled curse, he lowered his hand.

  Rocky barked and Henry shushed him again.

  “Now we just wait for Raven and Liz then we can go. Okay, buddy?”

  Rocky wasn’t looking at Henry. His attention was focused on the trees. He barked again.

  “What’s wrong, dude?” Henry asked, peering where the dog looked.

  He saw it. There was another zombie and it chased something grey and sinuous in and out of the trees. It looked like a young cat.

  “Damn it,” Henry spoke, not wanting to see the poor thing eaten if he could stop it. He got out of the truck and raced toward the zombie, knife raised. Rocky followed.

  Henry heard a pitiful meow and he broke into a run; Rocky kept pace easily. The tell-tale sounds of growling and inarticulate noises came from just inside the tree line. The cat hissed. Rocky barked and pulled ahead of Henry, reaching the trees first.

  “Shit,” Henry said, hurrying to catch the dog. If something happens to him, I may as well never come back, he thought, picturing his sister’s rage.

  Ducking beneath a low branch, Henry hurried. The forest floor was soft with years of fallen leaves and pine needles. Henry’s boots made little noise along the ground. He could hear Rocky growling and the cat shrieked. The zombie moaned. Henry glanced back and could no longer see the clearing. He wasn’t sure how far he’d run.

  “Jesus,” he spoke, jumping over a fallen log that he could barely see in the reduced light beneath the trees. It was a lucky thing that the moon was full or he’d not be able to see shit in here. Henry chastised himself for leaving his flashlight in the truck.

  He zagged around a large redwood and there they were. The zombie was a woman or at least she had been. Now she was just a thing, a deadly it with which he had to reckon. She was short and round, dressed in the tattered remnants of a silk blouse and black slacks. A large chunk of skin was missing from her face and her left shoulder was bare; except for those telling red lines. Wearing only one high heel, the zombie tottered on her feet, reaching for the small grey kitty that sat frozen with fear. Rocky barked and lunged, snapping his massive jaws. He stood far enough away that when the zombie reached for him, she got nothing but air. She made a wet gurgling noise in her throat that made Henry’s stomach feel queasy. Her head turned slowly in his direction and she gnashed her teeth.

  “Goodbye bitch,” Henry said and lunged, knife in hand.

  He slashed her across the face, peeling away the skin on her forehead and tearing the cartilage of her nose away. Congealed blood and string like veins fell away with the skin, leaving behind torn muscle and glistening bone. Except for her gleaming blue eyes. Those sat untouched in her face.

  “Oh, gross,” he spoke and stepped out of her clumsy reach.

  The skin from her face hung by her bottom jaw and jiggled whenever she snapped her teeth together. Henry ran behind her and before she could turn and face him, he stabbed her in the back of the skull. His knife sunk in easily through decomposing bone. Grey matter leaked around his blade and he yanked it free in a spray of viscous fluid. The zombie fell to the ground and was still.

  Rocky barked and charged the corpse and Henry held him back with a hand on his collar.

  “Easy, boy,” he said. “She’s dead.”

  Suddenly remembering the reason her was here, Henry looked around. At first he didn’t see the kitten. It sat huddled beneath a dry-looking fern. The cat was mostly grey with a little white on its paws and face. Its eyes were huge and yellow, bright like spring daffodils.

  “Hey there,” Henry spoke, squatting down and extending his hand. He whispered his fingers together, and made soft cooing noises.

  The kitty tilted its head and meowed softly. It rose into a half crouch and took a tentative step in Henry’s direction. Rocky moved closer and the cat froze; looking over its shoulder, ready to bolt.

  “Be still, Rocky,” Henry commanded. Then to the kitty, “It’s okay, we won’t hurt you. Come here.”

  The cat regarded him for a moment then walked forward. It meowed loudly and Henry scooped it up. The kitty rubbed its face on Henry’s chin.

  “You’re just a baby, aren’t you?” he asked, holding the cat a little away so as to see it better.

  It looked to be about six months old. The kitty was purring and hadn’t stopped rubbing its face against anything it could touch. Henry turned it over to see if it was male or female.

  “So you’re a girl then,” Henry responded, holding the kitty to his chest. The kitten purred happily.

  Rocky danced at Henry’s feet, stepping on the zombie and crushing its head into the ground.

  “What should we call you?” Henry asked the kitten.

  It stared back at him inscrutably.

  Henry heard the unmistakable roar of his truck engine.

  “Oh, fuck,” he spoke. “Sis got impatient. Come on Rocky, hurry.”

  They raced through the trees. Henry clutched the kitten to his chest and ran. Rocky followed. They had gone farther into the forest than he realized and by the time they arrived breathless at the clearing his truck was gone.

  “Well, shit,” Henry spat, peering around for any sign of zombies or the two men. The only thing out of place was the man’s body on the ground.

  The kitten squirmed to be let down and Henry obliged, thinking that there was no way he could carry it the whole way. It would either follow them or not. The kitty landed lithely on the ground and licked the fur along its spine. It meowed loudly and stumbled, making Henry laugh. Rocky walked up and sniffed its nose. He licked the kitten on the head, displacing its fur.

  “You sure don’t seem like you’re going to run away,” Henry spoke, leaning down to pet the kitty. It began to purr loudly and rub against Henry’s palm. “You do need a name,” he spoke, hunkering down and scratching the kitten under its chin.

  There was a crack of underbrush behind him and Henry stood, unsheathing his knife. Rocky let out a low growl, hackles rising. A flash of brown moved within the trees and Henry tensed. He didn’t want to fight again this soon; especially with all the jogging they would be doing to get to the Mom and Pop. He knew she would wait, but Henry didn’t want to worry her overmuch.

  A deer stepped out from the tree trunks, fawn colored with myriad white spots along its back. It regarded them silently and took a mouthful of grass. Henry held very still and stopped Rocky when he showed signs of straying toward the animal. The deer chewed thoughtfully then its head snapped toward the forest. It tensed its hindquarters and bolted back the way it came. Henry could hear its bounding footfalls then silence fell in the clearing.

  The kitty meowed and stretched up henry’s leg, digging its little claws into his jeans.

  “All right,” Henry said, picking it up. He held the kitten at arm’s-length and looked into its face. “What should we call you then? How about Thumper?” he asked, thinking of the deer.

  The kitten sneezed and shook its head.

  “Not that then?” Henry laughed. “How about Neptune?” That had been the name of a grey cat he and Raven had when they were little.

  The kitten closed its eyes and purred loudly, lo
oking mighty content.

  “Neptune it is,” Henry declared. He set the kitty on the ground and regarded her. “Are you going to keep up with us?” he asked, feeling a little silly. What cat had ever understood that much or even cared?

  “Come on, Rocky,” Henry spoke, patting his thigh. “Let’s go and see what happens. Worst case, I’ll make a sling out of my coat and Neptune can ride in there.” Henry wasn’t worried about carrying the kitten now. He’d named her and he would not leave her behind.

  They set off, walking through the clearing and away from the cabin; their safe refuge. Henry supposed they could be safe there again but he felt it was time to move on. The sun would be rising in a few hours and Henry thought they’d be at the Mom and Pop well before then. He turned onto the road; the gravel crunched beneath his feet. Glancing back, he saw that Neptune followed him. Rocky nosed the kitten every time she started to stray. Henry laughed quietly and zipped up his coat. It was starting to rain again.

  Chapter Seven

  Barbara Jean and Louise

  Barbara Jean and Louise

  “Louise!” Barbara Jean spat, shaking her friends shoulder. “Don’t do this right now, honey.” She pleaded.

  Louise’s head fell forward, dark hair streaked with white swung in front of her face. Her eyes were wide and unresponsive, lips parted. Her skin was normally a nice ruddy brown; eyes a gold-flecked hazel. Now her complexion had paled, looking sallow and wane but her eyes remained the same. They sparkled with life when she was having a good day and fell flat when she had a bad one. This was not a good day.

  Barbara Jean, Bee to her friends and that included Louise though sometimes she had a hell of a time with the woman, sat back in the driver’s seat and scrubbed her hands across her face. Her hair was cropped short to her scalp and dyed various shades of pink and green. At least it had been when this all started; now her grey was growing out and the bright colors were paling. She let her hands fall to her lap and sighed. Her tongue darted across her lips, making them glimmer in the fading light. Bee’s eyes were a blue so pale they were nearly grey and those eyes stared at the statuesque form of her friend.